


A Well Rested DI

by from_scarlet_to_pink



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-04-01 01:39:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4001071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/from_scarlet_to_pink/pseuds/from_scarlet_to_pink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg Lestrade is in desperate need of sleep. Luckily, Mycroft knows how to make this happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Well Rested DI

**Author's Note:**

> None of these characters are originally mine.  
> These particular versions are from Moffat/Gatiss.

It took several minutes for Greg Lestrade to get out of his car. At this point, falling asleep in the drive way was a pleasant thought. It had been too many long days, too many cases. He was dead on his feet.  
Even Donovan had commented on his appearance, and that usually meant that it was long past the time to go home and get some sleep.  
When Sherlock Holmes strode into NSY, offering to take a case – any case, apparently -, Greg was close to falling to his knees in front of the consulting detective, and kiss his feet.

A knock on the window pulled him out of his reverie.  
‘Gregory? What are you doing here, my dear?’ Mycroft asked as he opened the car door.  
‘Uhm… nothing? Just thought about a case, actually.’  
‘Gregory, you look as if you’d be falling asleep any second now. Get out of the car, and get into bed. I rearranged my schedule, so I won't have to leave your side again until tomorrow. Come on, I’ll help you.’  
‘That really isn’t necessary, My.’ It was, though. The DI was beyond tired. Being guided by Mycroft allowed him to close his eyes, and when he finally felt the mattress underneath him, he fell asleep before even taking off his clothes. 

 

\-----------

 

‘What are you doing here?’  
‘Always a pleasure to see you, Sherlock.’  
‘What. Are. You. Doing. Here?’  
‘I came to give you this.’ Mycroft moved towards the sofa, where Sherlock was curled up, holding out an envelope. Sherlock opened it and found two tickets for the London Symphony inside.  
‘You could have simply left them for me to pick up. No need to come in person.’  
‘Yes, well. This gives me the opportunity to thank you personally for taking those cases and thereby giving Gregory some much needed time to rest. His care is worth much more than two tickets to the Symphony. A couple of hours longer in bed can make a lot of difference at times.’  
‘Spare me your euphemisms, Mycroft.’  
‘Juvenile, brother mine.’  
‘You’re not denying it, then. And don’t think this will happen regularly. Those cases were completely inane. The fact that NSY couldn’t solve them within half an hour, themselves, goes to show how idiotic those so-called ‘detectives’ really are… Well! Now that you have done what you came here to do, there really isn’t any need for you to stay any longer, is there? Goodbye.’

Just as Mycroft was turning around to leave Baker Street, John was coming up the stairs.  
‘Ah, Mycroft, what brought you by today?’  
‘I came to deliver something to Sherlock.’  
‘I see. Are you staying? Care for a cuppa?’  
‘No, he isn't. No, he doesn’t. He was almost out the door, no reason to stop him now.’ Sherlock interjected.  
‘Indeed. Maybe another time, John. Have a lovely day.’  
‘Sorry for him, really. I don’t know why he is so sour. This morning he was all excited because one of the cases he got from Greg was actually ‘interesting and worth my attention’. Who knew that could still happen. And a good thing it was, that he got those cases, too. I swear, those last few days I was close to committing a murder, myself, just to get him to lighten up for a moment. Not that I really just said that… But I didn’t know his mood could turn quite so quickly…’  
Mycroft turned to look at his brother, who was doing an excellent job of ignoring him.  
‘Well, I’ll leave you to it, then. Again, good day, John.’ Mycroft picked up his umbrella, which he had left at the door, and walked down the stairs, leaving John and Sherlock alone in 221b.

 

\-----------

 

‘Hey, where did you go off to?’ a still sleepy voice drifted towards him from the bed.  
Mycroft stood in the door, taking in the picture presented to him. Gregory Lestrade, still sleepy, lying in their bed was one of his favourite sights. Taking off his jacket and shoes, he went to sit on the bed, caressing his lover’s hair.  
‘There was something I had to take care of. I didn’t think you’d wake up before I returned. I’m sorry about that, I know I promised to stay here with you. But for the rest of the day, I shall be completely yours.’  
‘Hmm… I believe that might be my favourite sentence in the history of... sentences.’  
Pulling his love into a sweet kiss, that quickly turned heated and passionate, Mycroft thought about a ring he had ordered at the finest jeweler in London.  
‘We’ll see about that.’


End file.
